


choi minho, disaster gay

by cafevixx



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Disaster Gays, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minho is a Bisexual Disaster, Multi, Mutual Pining, OnHo - Freeform, Self-Hatred, Size Kink, rom com
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafevixx/pseuds/cafevixx
Summary: aka "Lee Jinki has a big dick," and other dumb things Minho's said when he's had too much alcohol.---"I'm no expert," Jinki starts, "But sorry seems to help." His voice cut through the thick silence. Minho’s mouth opens and closes quickly. Sorry never crossed his mind, mainly because the feelings in his head swirled around so fast he didn't really think about anything. His feelings are too stupidly complicated to even try and understand someone else’s. “It’s really just a thought though. What do I know?” Jinki gets up, taking his empty bowl and cutlery, and he flashes Minho that smirk once again--God, Minho can't open this can of gag peanuts right now. Or ever.Jinki walks away and Minho can't help but watch the way sweatpants hug his thighs. He watches the way the fabric of his shirt stretches across his back. God dammit, Minho can't help but think before going to wash his own plate in the sink.





	1. lee jinki, resident big brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: [do it all the time ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nv9oqihEFnI) by i don't know how but they found me

Minho’s got a problem. A big problem. One that starts with Grindr and ends with a hookup and regrets. And Jinki.

Jinki is a huge fucking problem.

Minho’s pretty certain that he’s a decent guy, at most. He never skips classes, he’s never done drugs--he always volunteers his time at animal shelters, and he always listens to the strangeness of Taemin and Kibum’s growing love life. Well, assuming they’re not talking about some weird sex thing that Minho wants nothing to do with. Then, and only then, do they get ignored.

Most of the time, though, the two clowns honk their big red noses at Minho and his rather strange extracurricular activities. What? Minho’s a man. He’s got needs. And those needs include: food, water, a place to stay, and sex.

What can he say other than he likes to fuck? Really?

“Jinki,” Minho says from the brown recliner hugging the wall of the living room. Their apartment feels like it’s the size of an actual shoebox. Their living room, kitchen, and bedroom are all in the same space and leave it to Minho, of course, to room with the guy who has a penchant for leaving his shoes by the couch. Granted, it’s all in an orderly line, but sometimes there are smells so strong it’s like rancid farts leaking out of his shoes. Jinki’s the menace that leaves boiling pots on the stove while he’s in the shower. Or almost forgets about the metal spoon in the bowl of leftovers he was about to stick in the microwave until Minho screams at him to pay attention. Or drops glass on the floor and immediately proceeds to pick it up with his hands. Jesus. How have they not died living together yet? “I’m a good person, right?”

Jinki smirks at him. “Depends on who’s answering really.” Minho hears the click-clack of a metal spoon hitting a glass plate, the boiling of water on the stove, and the sizzling of what smells like ham on the stove. “I’m making ramen, if you want any.”

Okay guys, Minho is more than aware that two words float around him: womanizer and manwhore. He’s totally aware of that. Honestly, though, he could give less of a shit. The only opinions that matter to him are Taemin and Kibum’s. Maybe Jinki’s on a good day.

He’s evading the question, Minho thinks, what does he think of me?

Okay, so Jinki’s opinion matters to him more than he’s willing to admit.

Minho takes the time to study Jinki, to watch the way his arms relax and contract as he pours in ingredients to the boiling water. He looks at the way Jinki pokes his tongue out of his mouth in concentration and--oh, wait, now Jinki’s staring at him. He’s doing the thing again. And no, he’s not doing the thing that Minho dreams about either--giving him a cock ring or a wedding ring--Jinki’s giving him the look. The same look he gets around the time dumb-bitch o’clock strikes and Minho asks questions he already knows the answers to. Jinki does that a lot, actually: give him looks and quips. Tells him half answers and one liners.

Minho has a running theory, one that may or may not be playing out in this moment: Jinki may or may not be using these conversations as a way to flirt. If he is, great. Minho will literally never fuck around with anyone if there’s a chance that Jinki likes him back. If he’s not, which was likely, and Jinki was using these conversations as playful banter between friends, again highly likely, then Minho hoped Jinki would tell him before anything got too far.

Who knows what Jinki’s intentions are? Certainly not Minho, he can tell you that.

Reality crashes onto Minho and his figurative parade gets rained on by logic, rationality, and insecurity. Jinki, the clumsy fool he is, had some standards. Loosely defined, but they’re still there, and Minho fits close to none of them.

Minho looks back at Jinki, who’s smile is warm and could be genuinely considered coy if Jinki had any bone in his body capable to be coy of all things. Alas, Minho felt the look of exaggeration and utter disgust---the look that Dumb and Dumber gave him on the daily. Of course, Jinki’s met Taemin and Kibum, but with their increased levels of dumbassery coupled with the fact that they are literally the worst couple in the universe--every time they see Jinki they just have to act a fool.

Also, afterthought on Minho’s part, Jinki just didn’t show any signs of liking him as anything more than a friend. Go figure.

“Don’t avoid my question, Jinki,” Minho deadpans.

“I didn’t, dear,” Jinki responds. “Now answer mine. Ramen?”

Dear? Oh. That flashes pictures of white picket fences and two story houses in the suburbs throughout his mind. It did something to him, in a domestic kind of way.

Minho shudders. He’s gonna ignore that thought for now.

“Is it bad that I don’t wanna see this guy?” Minho asks, accepting the bowl of ramen from Jinki’s hand graciously. The steam hits Minho’s hand as he reaches for the spoon, freshly washed and still dripping with water from the faucet. He lets the ramen sit for a bit, to let it cool down, and holds his phone loosely in his hand. "He's sweet and all, but he's not getting the hint."  
  
Jung Yunho was his name, a med student well off into getting his doctorate degree. He was sweet, caring and had a penchant for dance. Minho is pretty sure Yunho was the only one of his flings that he hadn't met on Grindr, rather from an actual person. You see, Minho knows for a fact that Yunho is one of the leaders of the dance team Taemin’s on: the leader of the Superstar unit within the main SM dance crew. Taemin looks up to him more than.anyone else in the world, even if Minho's in the same room hoping to be lied to at least once to salvage his ego.

Anyway, back to the story.

Minho didn't ask to go to the dance meet that fateful day. Hell, he'd wanted to go home so badly he thought about just leaving Taemin at the studio to fight it out with the rain--it won't hurt you Taemin, Minho remembers saying, it's just rain. How old are you, three?

To which Taemin replied, "but Bummie's modeling, Min, and our apartment is an hour from here and you promised you'd--"

"Yah, yah, yah," Minho says. A yawn cuts the silence and in.that moment Minho wished that he could inject caffeine straight into his veins. He also wished for a Starbucks to appear.

None of these things happened.

"I'm clowning. I've gotta stay or Kibum will cut my dick off with a spoon for leaving you alone at night when he's not here," Minho smiles and ruffles his hair. It's gotten longer, Minho thinks.

Textbook example of the phrase you're lucky I love you.

So, in a drowsy and tired state, Minho walked Taemin from the car to the studio. The studio itself was huge. There were mirrors all over the walls, a grey accent wall where the door was, and wooden flooring. Every single person in the room was wearing black sweats and hoodies, every single person in the room looked like they knew each other-

“Hey guys! Taemin’s here,” a voice with a low timbre cuts through the room. Minho looks to find the person it belongs to. “And he's brought a friend. Go warm up. I’ll talk to the new guy.”

Minho felt his mouth going slack. Whoever owned that rich voice owned his body at that exact moment.

“Welcome to the studio,” the voice says. "Interested in dance?”

“I mean, yeah, but not for myself,” Minho replies, “I promised Key I’d drive Taemin to class, by the time we left it started getting dark because I know Taemin hates walking in the dark. I needed a coffee so I was gonna go, but Taemin gave me the goddamn puppy eyes and-- oh, where are my manners?” He notices Yunho’s hand reached out toward him to shake. “Name’s Minho.”

“Ah,” the man smiles, “Taemin talks a lot about you.”

“Good things I hope,” Minho replies, scratching behind his ear.

"Definitely, definitely," the man before him sighs, "Yunho, by the way."

“Nice, nice,” Minho shuffles around on his feet.

“This is probably abrupt but are you down to stay for the class?”

“Yes!” Wow Minho, he thought, way to totally make a fool of yourself. “I mean, yeah. I’m totally down.”

Minho didn't know that entire statement would lead to two months of flirting and doing whatever the heck this was.

Personally, Minho thought Yunho deserves way better than his uncommitted ass but Yunho persisted. He'd plan dates, Minho would say he's busy. Yunho would want to hang out, Minho would magically be sick that day. Yunho would want to talk about their future, Minho would ignore his texts and calls.

Yunho thought they might be in a relationship, Minho’s free spirited brain freaks the fuck out. Minho’s really only in it for the sex. Sure, it sounds fucked up, but anything other than casual sex short circuits Minho’s brain.

Which lead to now.

“If you don’t want to see him, you don't want to see him,” Jinki tells him. And it's true. Minho shouldn't feel obligated to stay, no matter how nice of a person Yunho is. It’s better than stringing him along--even though he already has--and crushing his heart. Even though he'd already done that by not answering. Anyway. Minho really hopes that Yunho gets the hint. He revels in the in sex, loves it, but everything so far has left him unfulfilled. “But, you're awful when you try and deal with the aftermath of these things, you know.”

Minho turns his head. He's more than confused.

“Imagine it from Yunho’s perspective, yeah?” Jinki pressed forward. He sounds like he’s practiced this conversation a thousand times over, like he was waiting for this to happen. Or he was waiting to rip into Minho for his shitty behaviour. Likely the latter. “He really likes you--sleeps with you and everything--and then, you ignore him. How would you feel about that, Minho? Honestly.”

It would be pretty shitty, Minho could at least admit that to himself.

“I guess it'd be pretty shitty of me to do, huh,” Minho ponders aloud. "Maybe I'm just trying to figure out what I have to say to make it right." And it's true. He's slept around for so long that not only are Taemin and Kibum tired of him doing it, but they're also tired of hearing him whine and complain about things. "Taemin and Kibum are probably sick of my shit, too." Kibum always gave him this glance--something halfway between hatred and love. Annoyance too, when Kibum has to drive to pick his sorry ass up from a booty call gone wrong and miss out on sleep. Kibum's even tried to set him up on a blind date after that, to see if he was ready to settle down, but the desire for Jinki still sat in his chest.

"I'm no expert," Jinki starts, "But sorry seems to help." His voice cut through the thick silence. Minho’s mouth opens and closes quickly. Sorry never crossed his mind, mainly because the feelings in his head swirled around so fast he didn't really think about anything. His feelings are too stupidly complicated to even try and understand someone else’s. “It’s really just a thought though. What do I know?” Jinki gets up, taking his empty bowl and cutlery, and he flashes Minho that smirk once again--God, Minho can't open this can of gag peanuts right now. Or ever.

Jinki walks away and Minho can't help but watch the way sweatpants hug his thighs. He watches the way the fabric of his shirt stretches across his back. God dammit, Minho can't help but think before going to wash his own plate in the sink.

While he thinks about what to say Minho knows one thing for certain: he's definitely gonna talk to Yunho face to face, and not over text. 


	2. lee taemin, daiquiri loving ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Besides the point. Minho knew Jinki was hot. Objectively, totally not in a torch-bearing way, hot. He didn’t have feelings for Jinki. He’s attracted to the mystery, and if he gives his sex brain any other emotional input other than Jinki hot, much mystery, his functioning brain will combust. So he ignores the cute part in Jinki’s windswept hair, ignores the infectiousness of Jinki’s laughter, the fucking look Jinki gives him when he smiles--
> 
> Choi Minho doesn’t pine, refuses to actually. 
> 
> But he does lie a lot, even to himself
> 
> \--☺☹--
> 
> chapter song: [smithereens](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QNmdRzX0fM&list=PLL-U4xQQRwB-hCUhRo-r2Fi_7rg7WFlxi&index=6) by twenty one pilots

“I apologized,” Minho said, nursing the fifth glass of whiskey he had in his hand. He felt like he was floating, probably a sign that he was either one, too drunk, or two, on the way to being shitfaced drunk. Either way, he stares Kibum right in the eye as he says it. “Proud of me, Bum?” 

“I mean, of course I am,” Kibum replies. He’s picking something out of his nail, looking at Minho as if to say  _ finally dipshit _ . Which was honestly well deserved. “But, what prompted you to do this? Surely, something prompted you--let’s be real now, you’re kind of chicken shit. You don’t admit anything at all, whatsoever.” 

Minho was about to open his mouth, but then he realizes that Kibum wasn’t really wrong with that one at all. So, he bites back the urge to fight and simply says, “Jinki told me it’s good to admit your faults and say you’re sorry.” Watching Kibum smirk at him wasn’t on the list of things to deal with today, but there it was. In all it’s  _ no-shit _ glory. Minho hated that knowing smirk and, when he glanced over to Taemin, he can see that smirk multiply behind his eyelids. “What? What, just because Jinki said that apologizing is good doesn’t mean I did it for him--” 

The hostess comes around, asking if they’d like something else to drink, and Taemin orders another fruity cocktail. “Yeah, and the sky definitely isn’t blue,” he quips.  _ Smartass,  _ Minho thinks. 

She comes back in what seems like mere seconds, placing down his drink and smiles at him. “And you definitely don’t have a crush on him,” Kibum adds on. 

All Minho can do right now is roll his eyes and eat his food: ten chicken wings and some french fries with a nice whiskey. Taemin and Kibum are assholes. That’s the only logical conclusion Minho can come up with in his state of not-really-giving-a-fuck-about-his-outward-appearance. Like he said before, just because Jinki told him something about forgiveness and how powerful it is, doesn’t mean it was because of Jinki that he apologized. 

No one made him do anything that he wasn’t already thinking about doing. 

“Listen, Jinki didn’t make me do  _ anything _ you turd nuggets,” Minho took a sip from his glass. “I’d already been thinking about doing it--” 

“And, let me guess, Jinki pushed you to--” 

“Jinki just pushed me to--yeah, how did you know that?” 

Taemin chimes in. “It happens every single time, Min. You do someone, you ghost them, Jinki tells you how it might feel to be treated the way you treat people, you listen to him. It’s a cycle,” Taemin’s giggling, “Just like how we drink on Fridays and spill everything that’s happened in the week.” 

“Kibum, call the boy off--half of the empty glasses are from him and his Strawberry Daiquiris.” 

Okay, so the thing with Jinki may be true. It’s only natural to take good advice from the person he’s lived with and trusted for the past three years of his university life. He and Jinki were assigned roommates since Minho’s freshman year--he was but a wee freshman when everything started to go down the tubes. Jinki was a third year psychology major. 

It was a god awful freshman year. Jinki was even more profoundly enigmatic than he was right now and, between the awful year of banging knees and hardly breathing in their tiny dorm room, when he recommended to rent an apartment with him Minho agreed. For some reason. Fuck, they hardly knew each other when Jinki suggested to just rent an apartment with him and Minho still said yes--like a god damn idiot. 

But, they still managed to stay as close to each other as possible. Some might say they become...best friends..because of this ordeal. And that was also true because, even though Jinki was still a bit enigmatic, they got very  _ very  _ close during Minho’s sophomore year. The brief exchange of pleasantries became  _ hey let’s go out to that new restaurant you saw on the Food Network _ and staying in opposite halves of the apartment became  _ hey Minho I’m crashing in your bed right here right now.  _

Overly enigmatic Jinki became...slightly less enigmatic Jinki. 

There were things Minho knew to never ask him about: family, exes, and past regrets. And that was the most enigmatic part about him. Jinki knew everything about Minho’s family: from the time his mother kicked him out of the house for being bisexual to the day she took him back in. Jinki knew about all his exes because duh. They live together. And Jinki definitely knew about a lot of Minho’s past regrets. 

Jinki had been the one consoling him through the worst of it, really. 

But, Minho knew almost nothing about Jinki when it came to his emotions. Minho doesn’t believe in that love at first sight bullshit. Which is why Minho doesn’t necessarily want to say that he holds a torch for Jinki too. In order to hold a torch for someone, you have to know a little bit about their emotional side--what makes them tick, what makes them happy, what makes them upset or angry. But Minho doesn’t. It’d be utterly preposterous to insinuate he did. But, if he did--which he definitely does not--then he knows the flame would burn brighter than the torch at the Olympics. 

That’s if he held a torch. Because he doesn’t. 

Another strange thing about Jinki, Minho realizes---because Jinki-centric anecdotes are one of the only things on his mind at the moment---is that in the years of essentially living in Jinki’s little world, he’s never once seen him shirtless, naked, or both. When they first started rooming together in the apartment, Minho didn’t think of it in the slightest. Maybe Jinki was shy, but he’s lived with Jinki for almost three years now. When you live with  _ any  _ guy should expect an unwanted dick glance or walking in on him besting his meat or seeing him fresh out of a shower in nothing but a towel--Minho shakes his head. He’s upset with how his dick twitches in interest. _ It was just an observation, _ he yells internally _ , you’re not allowed to like this, pervert.  _

But, the observation is true. He’s never seen Jinki in  _ any  _ state of undress--but, what makes it worse, he knows Jinki’s seen him in almost every state of undress. Although Jinki did see the time, doggystyle, with his hair pulled back because the one guy from the engineering department thought it was fun to be rough. 

It was, don’t get him wrong, but that was a terrible day to be walked in on. 

Minho remembers Jinki’s eye, widened, and his face, beet red. He cast his eyes upward and backed out of the doorway, saying, “Alrighty then,” as he ran out of the room. Hell, he ran so fast he could’ve matched Usain Bolt. 

Minho couldn’t look him in the eye for almost two weeks after that. 

Besides the point. Minho knew Jinki was hot. Objectively, totally not in a torch bearing way, hot. He didn’t have feelings for Jinki. He’s attracted to the mystery, and if he gives his sex brain any other emotional input other than  _ Jinki hot, much mystery _ , his functioning brain will combust. So he ignores the cute part in Jinki’s wind swept hair, ignores the infectiousness of Jinki’s laughter, the fucking look Jinki gives him when he smiles--

Choi Minho doesn’t pine, refuses to actually. 

But he does lie a lot, even to himself.

“Hey, you done thinking about Jinki? Because we were having a conversation here. Thanks for the prompt response.” Of course it was Kibum who had to bring him back to the reality where Jinki isn’t sucking bruises on his neck while Minho sits in his lap. “Dude, really?”

Minho turns to Kibum’s knowing gaze. “I wasn’t thinking about Jinki.”

“Yeah and the--” 

“Sky isn’t blue. Taemin come up with another joke challenge: failed.” Taemin throws a piece of onion from his sandwich and hits Minho square on the neck. “That’s fucking nasty, Daiquiri loving ass. Was that onion  _ and  _ mayo?” 

“Can you stop pining? I didn’t know we were in a forest,” Kibum says, directly into his ear, causing him to blink hard. 

“I’m not.” Kibum responds with an eye roll. 

“You are,” Kibum says, “If you admit it, you’d be more emotionally prepared to make a fucking move so you can stop sleeping around and being sad.” Minho attempts to throw a glare Kibum’s way, but it’s very ineffective. “Choi Minho, I’ve seen puppies with meaner faces than yours.” 

“I hate that.” 

“You’re not even scowling properly.” 

“Hold on a second, I’ll get there.” 

“No, you won’t. Now can you admit that you’re pining.” 

“Choi Minho won’t admit to lies.” 

“Choi Minho also shouldn’t be referring to himself in third person,” Taemin finally buts in, “takes away from him trying to be mean, but failing. Like, dude, what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“Not pining.” 

“Okay, this argument is going nowhere,” Kibum nods. “Tell us, what did Yunho say?” 

Minho sighs and shrugs. “He said he’s down with still being friends, even after all the shit I’ve pulled.” Minho’s hands are clasped in his lap. He’s on edge--that wasn’t the only thing Yunho told Minho. And that wasn’t the only thing Minho told Yunho, either. “I told him I was an idiot for playing with his emotions like that and that I really should’ve just told him I didn’t want to pursue anything with him. I also told him I didn’t want to sleep around anymore.”

It’s dead silent. 

Taemin and Kibum both look at him, inquisitively. “Really? Like, on God?” 

“Yeah. I’m tired of sleeping around,” Minho breathes out. It’s been a though on his conscience for a long time now. The habits were started when? In his junior year of high school? And they kind of just trickled into his college life? 

It didn’t have the same appeal. Really, it didn’t. 

Minho speaks up again, “I need to focus on me. And school. And finding true happiness. Using other people for a quick lay isn’t going to get me there.”

“I’m proud of you,” Taemin blurts out. Kibum replies with the same sentiment. “Min, you deserve all the happiness in the world, I never understood why you did things that made you so unhappy all the time.”

There’s a comfortable silence, until Kibum speaks up again. “You know we’re proud of you. It’s a bold adult step that you made, but you’re gonna need to do more than just stop hooking up with people. I know you want Jinki. I get it.  _ We _ get it,” Kibum motions to himself and Taemin, “But the reality is, Jinki’s older than you. You have to make an honest effort not to regress to the behaviors you were making. He wants more.” 

Minho sucks in a breath. “You’re right, you know,” Minho replies. “And I hate it. But, I can change. I want something more, something stable.”  _ Something like yours _ , Minho thinks. He looks at Taemin and Kibum. 

_ Where someone loves you with all their heart and something more.  _


	3. jung yunho, the one who got away (aka the flashback to the apology)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: [piano man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acJ-Wt3rpfc) by billy joel

It had been three weeks. 

Three weeks since Jinki and Minho had talked about apologies. Three weeks of avoiding Yunho, three weeks of wondering what to say to him, three weeks of writing apology after apology. There were three weeks of crumpled papers by his desk, all with different apologies and things that had to be said, but none of them felt right to give to Yunho. He was a dick and he knew that. A dick at best, but a coward at the worst, and he couldn't even own up to the fact that he was wrong. 

Apologizing to someone was never easy, especially if you're the one who’s caused a lot of hurt. 

Minho decides that today’s the day. No more excuses, no more side-stepping, no more avoiding. If he wants to expunge his bad reputation he knows he should apologize. And now he is. He gets in his car, buckles his seatbelt, and drives off to the studio. 

It’s about damn time.

His car engine starts and shuts off in the same way: with a small, pathetic sputter as he puts his car in drive and park respectively. He’s nervous, to say the least. As he approaches the door, painted in black laquer, he can’t help the feeling of anxiety that settles in his stomach. He shouldn’t be here. He knows he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here trying to get Yunho’s forgiveness, he should just be leaving Yunho alone--so Yunho can get over him. Yeah. Only for Yunho’s sake. Definitely not because he’s terrified of getting chased around with a mop like Amber had done when they had broken it off. Yunho and Amber had the same chaotic energy. 

Minho sighs. Things really could've worked out with Amber if he hadn't realized he liked Jinki just a tad bit more than he was supposed to. 

Lamenting aside, Minho knows it's just a tad too late to back out now. He's already tugging the door open. 

“Hey Hyo,” Minho asks, giving her a small smile. Minho’s halfway through the doorway when he speaks up. “Is Yunho here?” Hyoyeon glares at him. It makes him feel uneasy. 

She always glares at everyone, but this glare packed a punch. Something more than just a playful gesture. Hyoyeon has to know at this point--with her and Yunho being practically best friends, Minho wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know. He also wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't forgive him either. Oh well, he thinks, that’s another apology for another time.

“He’s in the back room,” she curtly responds. “What do you want from him, Minho?” Minho hears the click-clack of her perfectly manicured nails on the desk. She was unimpressed with him, he knew that for sure. 

“I need to talk to him,” Minho can feel her eye roll, he can see it behind his eyelids. “About something urgent.” He sounds hopeful, like after everything he’s put Yunho through that he’ll magically get peace of mind by apologizing. 

And, who knows? Maybe Minho and Yunho can both get some piece of mind tonight. 

“Well, I can call him,” she sighs, placing her head in her hand. “That won't necessarily mean he wants to talk to you.” She picks up her cellphone, adorned with a lilac purple case, and types in a number. Her voice changes from unimpressed to somewhat happy. “Yunho! Hey, someone’s here to see you--who? Oh, Minho. Yeah. Send him down? Alright, gotcha. Bye lovey.” She hangs up the phone and stares directly at Minho, gaze unrelenting and unforgiving. “I’ll bring you to the back room, but don’t try anything that’ll fuck him up again Choi. I’m warning you--”

“I won’t Hyo,” Minho looks down at the ground. “I really just want to apologize. Face to face.” 

“Okay. Then, let’s go.” Hyoyeon doesn’t say another word, she just leads him to the back room and leaves him once he’s outside the door. Minho knocks twice and, oh--there are the nervous butterflies again. He remembers Jinki’s words:  _ saying sorry seems to help _ . 

He hoped Jinki was right. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here Minho.” Yunho still looked as dashing as ever and it was almost like the first day they’d met. Ya know, minus the Taemin hating being alone in the dark and the rain thing. And the awkward dance class. “Hyo said you wanted to talk to me. What’s up?” 

“I wanted to apologize to you Yunho,” Minho’s shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t know how he should execute the delivery, but he knows everything just needed to be said. “I know I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It’s wasn’t fair to you that I just abandoned you like that when you tried to make things work.” He lets out a shaky breath and continues. “If I would’ve have been better at communicating my feelings better, and understanding what my feelings were at the time I would’ve avoided all this hurt and grief I caused you. You’re an awesome guy, Yunho. You deserve so much better than my non-committed self. If you wanted to, could we be friends still?” 

“I’m fine with being friends after all this,” Yunho smiles at him. It’s a genuine smile. “You know something? I could tell something was up. That your heart was in a different place than mine, and that’s okay. It happens and you learn to just let it go. It’s brave of you to acknowledge that your feelings were different, it’s even braver for you to admit to someone that you wronged them  _ because _ your feelings were different.” 

Minho smiled. Yunho really was the best person he ever hung out with.


	4. choi minho, the love of jinki's life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least, he'd like to. Here’s the thing: Jinki didn't know if Minho was interested in him like that anyway. He didn't know if Minho would even like such a shy, reclusive, enigmatic loser like him. He knows Minho would rather be on some grand adventure, exploring something new and uncomfortable, but Jinki? Jinki liked to stay inside. Jinki liked to listen to music too loud, liked to sit and binge watch movies on Netflix. He liked to read obscure poetry and play the occasional video game.
> 
> He wondered if Minho would like that too, but it hits him: Jinki was such a boring homebody. Why would Minho want to be with him?
> 
> \--☺☹-- 
> 
> chapter song: [a different age](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1h1AOeVQ38) by current joys 

Jinki couldn’t say he was the perfect role model.

He knew for a fact that he wasn’t. He spent a majority of his life doing the wrong thing: from high school to sophomore year of college Jinki partied like a beast. He hung out with the wrong crowd, got himself into worlds of trouble in the name of having fun, and landed himself in the hospital at least twice. When he was down on his luck he washed it down with a drink or some smokes. He never learned how to properly cope with anything, partially due to years upon years of bottling up everything from happiness to sadness.

At the end of it all, he finds himself asking the same question, stuck in the same situation he’s had since one doe eyed freshman entered his life all those years ago: do I like Minho?

Jinki didn't know. He didn't know if he was capable of handling an emotion as sting as love, but he had to admit one thing, of course: there was never a dull moment with Minho around. Minho was infectious, a happy virus that had the ability to get under the skin of everyone he’s ever met--including Jinki himself. It was funny to him because Jinki thought Minho’s happy virus act was going to wear out, that he was going to show an ugly side to himself that broke the illusion and made Jinki hate him, but he learned that Minho was always like that. Minho was always happy go lucky.

It was refreshing for an overly pessimistic soul like Jinki’s to interact with Minho, but frustrating at the same time. Frustrating in the sense that Minho never seemed to think things through sometimes, opting for the easiest thrill that was available to him instead of thinking it through. Jinki’s seen the worst of Minho’s sexual escapades and, hair pulling kinks aside, not everything was as good for him as he’d lead you to believe afterwards.

He wasn't dumb. He knew about the reputation that Minho had, and was surely reminded of it every single day since the day they've became friends.

“A womanizer”, people said.

“ A manwhore,” others echoed.

“Being around that Choi Minho is not good for an intelligent man like you,” everyone screamed at him. “He throws himself at anything that walks Jinki, don't get caught up with him.” Everyone told him, warned him to stay away from Minho, but he didn't. Everyone said he was no good, but they were wrong. Sure, Minho’s into casual sex, but that didn't make him a despicable human being in Jinki’s eyes.

Honestly enough, causal sex is the least of Jinki’s worries. There was more to Minho, more to unravel and discover, and--platonically or romantically--he was going to find out all he could about Minho.

He knew there was more to Minho when he asked if he was a good person almost three weeks ago. Behind a smiling facade, there was simply a boy. A boy afraid of what everyone thought of him, a boy wanting approval from the people around him. A boy with feelings, needing an outlet for all those pent up feelings.

Jinki felt like he was looking into a mirror.

At least, he'd like to. Here’s the thing: Jinki didn't know if Minho was interested in him like that anyway. He didn't know if Minho would even like such a shy, reclusive, enigmatic loser like him. He knows Minho would rather be on some grand adventure, exploring something new and uncomfortable, but Jinki? Jinki liked to stay inside. Jinki liked to listen to music too loud, liked to sit and binge watch movies on Netflix. He liked to read obscure poetry and play the occasional video game.

He wondered if Minho would like that too, but it hits him: Jinki was such a boring homebody. Why would Minho want to be with him?

Why would Minho want to be stuck in one place when he could stick to casual and explore everything he wanted? Why would Minho want to be tied down to him when he doesn't do much other than cook and give advice? Why?

Well, for starters: Minho comes back to the apartment.

Jinki hasn't made Minho pay a cent of rent for the apartment. Ever. It’s an apartment that Jinki bought with an extra room and told him roommate to come with him for free. If Minho wanted out he had a way. Nothing tied him to the apartment, to Jinki.

Nothing.

But he comes back every night.

Jinki liked when Minho came home to him. Maybe he was hopeful because of Minho's naivety that rubbed off on him ever so slightly, but when Minho stepped through the doors of the apartment all Jinki wanted to do was never let him go. But he can’t say that, he doesn't know where he stands on Minho’s list, so he just sits and does nothing.

Jinki greets him once he comes in and doesn't say anything else until Minho needs him to. He’ll crash in Minho’s bed at night when Minho doesn't want to be alone, he’ll cook ramen for the both of them, he’ll clean up the apartment from time to time--none of that required words though. They don't really speak much to each other, so a Jinki doesn't know where he stands half of the time. But he doesn't test it, not intensely anyway.

He’s only tested out where he stands with Minho once: by casually slipping in a dear into their conversation. Minho never said anything about it, just looked at him with confused doe eyes. Jinki reveled in it. It was one of his only ways to get his feeling toward him across. Calling him dear and making him ramen, that's as emotionally vulnerable as Jinki was willing to get at the moment.

Pretty sad, isn't it?

Jinki thinks it is. That he's so emotionally dead that he tries to express himself through instant ramen and the occasional pet name.

But he won't stop trying, that's for sure.

  



	5. lee taeyeon, the only actual intellectual in this story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t take his own advice, Taeyeon is right about that. 
> 
> Jinki is hellbent on sitting by himself, in the darkness of his room, and not saying a word to Minho about how he feels while telling Minho to do the exact opposite. He refuses to talk about anything that happened in the past, even though he encouraged Minho to tell him everything so he can clear his conscious. Jinki hates being upfront about his emotions even though he tells Minho to be upfront and honest and Jinki feels like he’s lying in a way. 
> 
> Lying to Minho about how to feel when he doesn’t exactly know that for himself
> 
> \--☺☹-- 
> 
> song of the chapter: [out of my league](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d2I6SIs_bk) by fitz and the tantrums

“You’re always giving Minho advice on how you should be open and honest,” Taeyeon sighs, “But you never take your own advice.”

They’re drinking beer and munching on chicken on the couch in his and Minho’s apartment, the sound of Pororo filling the empty space. It’s been a while since Jinki and Taeyeon have been able to relax and talk, since Jinki had been stuck writing his proposal on Taeyeon’s birthday working on answering whether or not different types of music can lead to different physiological responses—a semester-long project that made him want to rip his hair out—and Taeyeon had just been so busy studying for her music theory final that she completely lost track of time.

It was refreshing, talking to her again after months.

“How do I tell him ‘hey, I’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met’?” Jinki replies, “It sounds crazy and creepy, Tae. I don’t want that to skew what he thinks of me.”

“And what does he think of you?” Taeyeon asks in between bites.

“That I’m level-headed.” Jinki reaches for his bottle of beer, placing the spout to his lips before taking a drink. “That he can trust me with his problems and that I’m not out to get him or use him.” Jinki sighs. “Taeyeon, he’s had a lot of people use him—whether he likes to believe it or not—because he’s so casual about sex. A lot of people curse his name and call him nasty things too.I’ve noticed it a lot and I don’t like it and I don’t—”

“Want to tell him all your feelings just for him to think you’re going to do the same?”

“Exactly.”

Jinki leans back, hoping the couch will swallow him whole. The last time he and Taeyeon talked about Minho, Jinki almost cried. It was a mess, but he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol loosening his tongue and making him look for emotional comfort, but there he was.

Looking for emotional comfort by talking about the one thing he never really talks about: his feelings. 

“Listen Jinki,” Taeyeon says, placing her beer bottle down in front of her. “I get it. You’re scared that he’s going to think you’re just like everyone else, but from what you told me he already trusts you, so why do you not trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jinki sighs, “I’m just…scared? Intimidated by my feelings maybe—I don’t even know how to explain it, Tae.” Jinki hopes and prays that he didn’t have to confront his feelings because he didn’t even know how to.

Taeyeon sighs, passing him the last drumstick in the bucket before taking another swig of her beer. He knows she feels sorry for him, another reason why he kept all his emotions on the down-low.

He hates when people pity him, but honestly, he knew Taeyeon was going to be like this.

Taeyeon is, quite literally, Jinki’s tether in this otherwise amazingly dumb world. She’s the one who gives Jinki all the well thought out, seemingly intelligent advice he passes down to Minho. She’s the one who encourages him to be more outgoing and less shy, she gets him out of his stuffy dorm room, and she’s been the one who has been dealing with all the bothersome emotional turmoil Jinki seems to love putting himself through. She’s always been there for him. Jinki calls her his blessing in disguise because, although they argue sometimes and go days without talking due to their hectic schedules, Taeyeon never abandons him. She is always there, listening and helping him out.

Their friendship was, by design, made to balance out Jinki’s pessimism and emotional ineptness with Taeyeon’s optimism and ability to process her emotions.

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t trust me anymore after I confess? What if he hates me?” Jinki sighs, “Taeyeon, other than you and Jonghyun, he’s the only other friend I have here. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Jinki, sometimes there are risks you have to take,” Taeyeon replies. “It sounds selfish, I know, but if it’ll ease your mind you might as well tell him. If you’re as good of friends as you think, Jinki, he won’t leave you. He won’t be insulted, he’ll just say ‘I’m not interested in that’ and continue to want to be your friend.” She takes a drink, muttering, “And besides, if he really has a problem with a harmless crush he’s gotta stop staring at you like you’re a whole ass meal.”

“What?” Jinki raises his brow, confused.

“Nothing.”

They sit together in relative silence after that, eating snacks on the couch while Pororo gets up to his normal shenanigans. They laugh, but Jinki has something stuck in his head that he just won’t stop thinking about.

He doesn’t take his own advice, Taeyeon is right about that.

Jinki is hellbent on sitting by himself, in the darkness of his room, and not saying a word to Minho about how he feels while telling Minho to do the exact opposite. He refuses to talk about anything that happened in the past, even though he encouraged Minho to tell him everything so he can clear his conscious. Jinki hates being upfront about his emotions even though he tells Minho to be upfront and honest and Jinki feels like he’s lying in a way.

Lying to Minho about how to feel when he doesn’t exactly know that for himself.

Jinki was scared and vulnerable, confused on what to do with all his feelings and pent up anger, loneliness, and sadness. But, he just doesn’t like to talk about feelings, or himself for that matter. He’d much rather listen to others and coach them through _their own_ problems instead of letting himself be emotionally vulnerable.

He calls it guarding himself, Taeyeon calls it leeching off of others’ emotions to seem like you’re taking care of your own, and Jinki wants to do something about that because she’s _right._

Taeyeon has always been right.

He hates it when Taeyeon is right.


End file.
